Dawn Of The Huntress
by R.C. Stephens
Summary: A compilation of short stories of Chris Carrigan, an accomplished huntress with a troubled past who grew up and trained with the Winchesters. Strong, beautiful, and not to mention deadly. She's the badass, Supernatural huntress the show was missing! Each chapter is set in a different season of the show. Rated M for language and sexual content!
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

 **Hell Bound** **(Season 4)**

Dean was beyond hope.

He had less than a year left until his soul would be dragged down to Hell. Dean had transformed into a completely different person: reckless, hopeless…careless. Chris could barely recognize him as of late, and she was saddened that her last memories of Dean would be his dark side. Who could blame him? His clock was ticking out of time.

But what could she do – tell him everything was going to be alright? No she couldn't. It was impossible. Because the truth was, everything _wasn't_ going to be alright for Dean. He was going to be condemned to an eternal damnation whether he liked it or not, and all Chris could do was wait until his final moments to end.

Chris regretted her decision to leave him to his own devices, because here she was, helping this pathetic, lost soul with his "choices."

"Ouch! Chris! What the hell?" Dean winced with pain, the large gash in his chest (which would most likely leave a gaping scar) was dripping with thick, red blood. He scooped up the Jack Daniels bottle from the bedside table, taking a large draught of it. Some of the liquid dripped from his lips, streaming down his chin and onto his bare chest. He pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for Chris to finish cleaning his wound. She didn't say anything, but continued to tend to his injury.

Chris was so mad…she was beyond furious! To be _that_ impulsive—it was so…so amateur!

"You're such an asshole." Chris muttered through a bitter laugh and clenched teeth.

"What?"

Chris exploded.

"You heard me, you fucking dick! How could you be so stupid?! You could've gotten all three of us killed back there! Are you really that eager to go to Hell?"

Dean was shocked into silence.

" _Well_?! Are you?!" Chris could feel the tears well up in her eyes, which made her even more angry that she was about to cry in front of Dean (which was something she had never done before).

Chris stood up from the bed, turning her back on Dean so he couldn't see her. She put her hands on her hips, shutting her eyes tight so the tears wouldn't get a chance to fall. Chris let out a cringe worthy laugh, making him shiver.

"I mean God! If you wanted to go that badly, then all you had to do was ask! I would've sent you there myself!"

"Chris…"

"Don't."

Chris slowly turned back around and, without another word, continued to stitch up Dean's chest. Dean seemed to be at a loss for words, taking in the deafening silence.

With the last stitch and final roll of the bandage, she tied off the cloth and stood up again. Making her way to the door, her black leather jacket in tow, she reached for the doorknob. He called out to her, his tone demanding her to come back. But she didn't stop.

Dean managed to grab her wrist in time before she opened the door, pulling her away from it forcefully. She was facing him now, his expression rigid and stern. But his eyes were soft. In just a short while, she will never be able to see that stupid, grimacing expression of his ever again. Her heart throbbed painfully in her chest at this, but she ignored it.

She jerked her wrist back from his hold, giving him a threatening look before reaching for the knob again. Chris opened the door and she could feel the breeze hit her face, wanting nothing more than the fresh air to cool her down. But before she knew it, the door slammed shut in her face. Dean was looming dangerously over her, his arm like a cage between her and her way out.

"What are you doing?"

"We're not done talking." Dean ordered in a deep voice, trying to intimidate her. But she was far from amused.

" _I'm_ done talking. Now get away from the door."

Dean planted his foot down in front of the door, making opening the door impossible. "You're going to have to move me then."

"Do you think keeping me here will make me talk about all of this meaningless bullshit? It doesn't even matter now, Dean! _None_ of this matters! You've already made up your mind, so there's no use saying anything different!" Chris paused to wait for his reply, but he said nothing.

"Dean, I want to leave. Open the door."

"No." Dean challenged.

"I've already said enough! Let me _**leave**_!" Her voice cracked at the last word, and she could feel her resolve leaving her. Tears welled up in her clouding, green-hazel eyes. She hissed out a curse through her teeth. She turned her back on Dean once more, closing her eyes and letting her head rest against the door. Chris could finally feel the tears escape and run down her cheeks, the feeling of defeat and weakness overwhelmed her until she was shaking.

"Damn it…"

Suddenly, and without warning, Dean grabbed her by the shoulders and whirled her around to face him. Dean took Chris into a strong embrace, the wind getting knocked out of her as he pulled her roughly against him. Dean winced as her body collided onto his, but he ignored the pain from his injury and held her tighter against him. Chris wanted to pull away, to fight him again, but she couldn't.

She just couldn't.

Her chin could barely reach above his shoulder, and she found herself almost suffocating from the unyielding hold he had on her. Although the embrace was demanding and strong, it made her feel safe. That familiar scent of old leather and cologne that belongs only to him, filled her senses. Those rigid muscles rippled beneath her when he moved against her. She never wanted him to let go – never wanting him to leave her.

With a clenched fist, she pounded hard against his back with her last fit of anger.

"You're such an idiot."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

 **Heat-Seeking Missle (Season 2)**

"What's he like – that Dean guy?" The blonde asked Chris, her blue eyes locked onto Dean as if he were a target, and she was a heat-seeking missile. Chris choked on her drink a little, making her cough and set her bottle down onto the bar table. She chuckled, "Well, if you like Metallica, cars, guns, and boobs: then he's your guy."

The woman looked over at Chris, her expression already lost and confused.

Chris smiled faintly back, her emotions battling between are-you-a-fucking-idiot and sympathy. But she couldn't decide which to feel, so she just decided to be polite and let the girl hear what she wanted to hear instead.

"I know he'll like you a whole lot." Chris gave her a quick pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, okay!" The blonde gave a blinding, mega-watt smile and practically skipped over towards Dean and Sam at their table.

It was all so predictable: the way she batted her long, glossy eyelashes, the way she giggled in a high-pitched tone, the way she jostled her blonde locks about. Using her God-given (or artificial) assets to gain the attention she so desperately craves, in return for a one night stand and a swift goodbye. Chris thought it was almost disgusting, the way she fawned over Dean while he, well, does whatever he does to get laid.

By no means was she jealous. Disgusted is the right word to define this feeling.

Sam smiled awkwardly at the two, taking his leave to join Chris at the bar. They clanked bottles, a silent but effective hello for the both.

"So, what brings you here this fine evening?" Chris asked; an eyebrow rose in false curiosity. Sam laughed as a beaming smile graced his handsome features. It was a rare sight to see his smile, and that made Chris even prouder to elicit this from him.

"Oh, you know. I felt bad seeing you here all by your lonesome." Sam leaned back on the counter, taking a swig of his drink.

"Well aren't you sweet. That's why the cheap sluts don't flock to you. You're too good of a person. Your brother on the other hand…" Chris glanced over her shoulder at Dean, who was now apparently, a chair for the blonde who was sitting on his lap.

"Yeah, thanks. Dean will be Dean, though."

"He's good at it." Chris smirked, peering up at Sam from under her long eyelashes.

When it came to Sam, Chris could read him like an open book. It wasn't because he was predictable or anything, it was because he was an honest and genuine person from the heart. And she knew by just one look, she knew what he was thinking, even when he wasn't paying any attention.

Chris swiveled around in her bar stool, facing Sam head on.

"Sam."

With her sudden serious look, Sam jumped back a little with surprise. "W-What is it?"

"You _are_ a good person, Sam. I see it as plain as day, and your brother sees it too. You may not believe it yourself, but there are people that do believe in you. There will be times when you're probably unsure, lost even, but Dean and I will beat you back to your senses. You're Sam Winchester, and that's who you'll always be. Not the Sam Winchester that Lucifer wants you to be. Remember that will you?"

Sam looked at Chris with wide eyes, blinking a few times to fully register what she had said. A broad smile slowly pulled at the corners of his lips, "Thanks Chris."

"What're friends for?" Chris touched her glass bottle to the one in Sam's hand with a light clink. A small grin appearing across her lips before she took a drink.

"Guess what, guys?" Dean came up suddenly in front of them, his eyes wild and full of excitement. "That blonde girl, Jessica, says she's a yoga instructor. Can you believe my luck? Papa's getting it in tonight baby!"

Sam and Chris looked at each other, less than mildly amused at Dean's predicament. Chris peered over Dean's shoulder at the blonde, surveying her with a neutral expression. Her lips turned up into a sly sneer after one look at Dean, "I wouldn't go with her if I were you."

Dean and Sam looked at Chris, their expressions ranging from curiosity to bewilderment. They both looked back at the girl waiting for Dean a couple of feet away, her appearance normal – slutty, but normal. Than looked back at Chris who regarded them with a cool, half-lidded gaze.

"What's wrong with her? She's perfect!" Dean said in an exasperated tone.

"Alright then, have fun!" Chris teased innocently, turning back around to face the bar table. Dean looked at his brother, but Sam shrugged his shoulders in confusion. Dean then headed towards the girl to drape his arm over her curvy figure. Happily, they walked to the exit and into the parking lot.

"Why'd you say that?" Sam chuckled.

"She's a demon." Chris took a final sip of her beer, placing it on the counter with a calm disposition. "Thanks Tom, I'll catch you later." Chris put a few bucks on the tabletop, slapping Sam's shoulder to get him to respond.

"Wait _what_?" Sam finally came to.

"Keep the change." Chris said over her shoulder, dragging Sam along with her towards the exit.

The bartender gave a stiff nod, picking up the money and stuffing it into his pocket.

"Are you sure? I mean, you just glanced at her! And if you knew, why would you let Dean walk out with her?" Sam rushed out the door, looking around for Dean and the girl.

"That young woman went missing from St. Mary's County three months ago, that's how I know. And look, Sam, you can't just shoot or tackle people in public places. You have to be patient – _calm_. Getting that sort of attention isn't something you two need right now, if you catch my drift. Plus, I wanted to see Dean look like an idiot, so there's that too." Chris leisurely pulled out a small, black coated lollipop.

Sam made a face, "You keep eating those, what are they?"

"Blackberry lollipops. I'm trying to quit smoking, so this is kind of my—"

"Okay, we should be looking for Dean!"

"You're the one who asked!"

"I know, but right now we—"

"Over there." Chris got out her signature Taurus 822 long slide handgun, the silver of the metal gleaming in the moonlight. It was her favorite weapon: the sheen on the surface made her shiver in excitement.

"Have my back, will you?" She saw Jessica and Dean heading towards his car.

"Don't move." Chris aimed her gun at the back of her head. Dean whirled around to face Chris, but Jessica remained shocked into place. The girl let out a small scream, holding her hands up in the air in defense.

"Chris!? What the hell?"

"Back off Dean." Chris said without even looking at Dean. She kept her glare steady on the back of Jessica's head.

"She's not as dumb as she looks folks," the woman scoffed, "and here I thought I would finally be killing a prized Winchester. And then Scary Carry shows up to ruin the fun! Well, isn't this my lucky day?"

"Your day's about to get luckier, bitch."

Chris maneuvered the gun to point it at Jessica's shoulder. She pulled the trigger, and a bullet spiraling into the demon's flesh. The demon smiled, but after a few seconds, her face contorted into pure agony. The bullet wound where she shot steamed out of her body. The demon wailed, her hands covering the spots that seemed to be on fire.

From her back pocket, she withdrew a small piece of paper with a strange symbol drawn on it and smacked it roughly onto the woman's forehead. The demon looked as if she were paralyzed; her eyes glazed over and grew wide with fear. With a quick chant, the demon poured from Jessica's mouth, the ashen black smoke evaporating into the air and bursting into a huge explosion of fire.

Chris caught the woman in mid-air and set her down onto the asphalt. Sam and Dean stared at Chris with blank expressions.

"What?"


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

 **Scarry Carry (Season 1)**

It had almost been nine years since Sam or Dean last saw her. Hell, they didn't even know what she looked like anymore. She was just as good at disappearing then John Winchester was – and that was saying something

Chris Carrigan: an expert killer with a God-given talent for hunting, tracking, and knowing all that there is to know about the supernatural. When it came to the hunting aspect of it, though, she was considered more of a contract killer. She didn't really kill without rhyme or reason, unless there was something in it for her. Nonetheless, her reputation for being one of the best hunters in the country was ironclad. Chris gained nicknames left and right over the years: "Carrigan The Conqueror", "Killer Chris", and her favorite: "Scary Carry".

When she was in her late childhood years, Chris's parents died in a tragic hunting accident. And with no other living relatives, she was deemed an orphan at a vulnerable age and nobody to take care of her.

Until John Winchester came to her rescue –

John and the Carrigan family were old friends; they were so close that they were family themselves. So, it was no trouble at all when John took Chris under his wing, especially since she had the raw equipment for combat fighting and hunting. John was more than happy to call Chris his precious new daughter.

Over the years, Dean and Chris (since they were around the same age) taught Sam all that there was to know about the business, while John continued to hunt and travel across the country. Dean and Chris would constantly fight amongst themselves, not getting along because of their similar, bull-headed qualities. But Sam was always the one to bring them together. They all grew closer at as they survived together, so close that they eventually became a real family.

Years before Sam went to college; Chris decided that she would be better off hunting alone – traveling the country to find her own fights and adventures. She was only seventeen years old.

John was adamant at first, not taking the risk of letting a young woman travel alone at her age. But she talked him into it, God knows how, but she did. She packed a few of her belongings, hopped on her motorcycle, and never looked back. Deep in her heart she knew that she didn't want to be a burden to the Winchester family anymore. Even though they didn't want her to go, she knew that this decision was for the best.

Chris wanted to see the world on her own, and to be able to become her own person. But she never returned home after leaving the Winchesters. After six years of constant communication with them, one day it suddenly came to a halt. Everyone thought she died...

Three years later, Chris manages to get in contact with John. That same day, it was then that John disappeared without a trace.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

 **Pointless Conversations (Season 1)**

 _"_ _Chris, this is Dean. If you're listening to this, which I know you are, you better pick up the damn phone. It's about dad – I mean John. Whatever. He's missing, and I need your help. Have you seen him? He's been gone for about a month now, and I've been worried out of my fucking mind here. I think he's in trouble. Chris, I've called you so many times I think I've lost count. It's been three fucking years already! Just, call me back, would ya'?"_

Chris hit the cancel button on her cellphone, waiting for it to ask her if she wanted to delete the current voicemail – she clicked the "yes" button.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she let out a sigh that almost sounded like a pained growl. Falling back onto the hard mattress, she stared up at the ceiling with tired, yet alert eyes. Pondering what Dean had said about John, the fact that he didn't even tell Dean where he was going made her worried.

It wasn't the first time he bailed on Dean though, but for that long?

The phone rang again, making her squint through the darkness to look at the caller ID that read in clear, bold letters: DEAN.

"Why am I not surprised?" Chris muttered, debating whether or not to answer her cell. With an exasperated wail, she flipped open her phone and pressed it to her ear.

" _Hello_ Dean. You have called Chris Carrigan's cell number. She's not available right now, but if you could leave your tenth million voicemail at the sound of the beep than that would be just peachy. Thanks for calling, you fucking stalker."

 _"_ _God damn it Chris! Where have you been? This is serious!"_ Dean was furious. His accent always sounded more southern when he was angry, which made Chris smile.

"Look Dean, you really shouldn't worry too much about John. He does this all the damn time: going off and not coming home for weeks...months even! You should know this by now."

 _"_ _This is different, Chris. He won't return any of my calls, and whenever I do call, it goes straight to voicemail. It doesn't even ring!"_

"You have a point. Usually when a hunter's phone goes straight to voicemail they're most likely in some serious shit…or worse."

 _"…_ _That's not entirely reassuring, Chris. But in your case, you have no problem ignoring our calls regardless of your situation. Seriously Chris…where have you been? Why haven't you been returning any of our calls?"_

There was a long pause.

"John isn't just any hunter. He's one of the best. He'll be fine, wherever he is."

 _"_ _So now you're avoiding my questions?"_

"Just drop it Dean. We're supposed to be talking about John, aren't we?"

 _"_ _Fine, let's talk about dad. I think the reason why he disappeared is because he found that demon."_

"You're kidding," Chris let out a cynical laugh, picking up the box of cloves next to her on the bed. She cradled the phone between her shoulder and her ear to shake the small box against her palm, until a pristine, black cigarette rolled out. She put the cancerous thing to her lips, and with the click of her lighter, she burned the end and puffed until grey smoke fumed from it.

 _"_ _No, I'm not. I think he's got a lead on it, God knows how that son of a bitch did it, but somehow he found the bastard. And I'm going to find John, and help him."_

"Dean," Chris gave a sigh, massaging her temples with her one free hand, "I wouldn't do that. He would've brought you along with him if he needed your help. I have a feeling he wanted to fight this thing alone. Settle the score, you know?"

 _"_ _Dad isn't the only one who wants to kill the damn thing."_

"I know, Dean, I get it. But just don't rush into this, okay? Not by yourself."

 _"_ _You're right; I'll bring Sammy with me."_

In shock, Chris sucked too much smoke into her lungs and almost died coughing. "Don't you fucking dare! I will kill you if you take that kid! He decided a long time ago that he wasn't going to be a part in any of this! He chose his own path – away from all this! You can't just pull him back into the game like nothing happened!"

 _"_ _What about you? What would you know? You've completely ignored all of us and shut us out! So, I really don't think you have a say in anything anymore."_

It was as if someone had punched her straight in the gut; the pain of remembering that night caught her off guard. It was that night she had shut down completely. Where she cut off everyone around her. Ever since she had gotten back from that job, she had never been the same.

"That's…not fair, Dean. You have no idea…" Chris said slowly, her lips pursed into a tight scowl.

 _"_ _Well, when you do finally decide that it could be my business, then give me a call. But right now, I need my brother. And since you're not going to help me find dad, then Sammy is the only one that I can rely on right now. He's the only family I got left."_

"Dean—!" But before she could say anything more, the line disconnected. Leaving her to the silence of her small motel room: alone, in the dark, and watching the remainder of her clove burn away between her fingertips.

She had to do something...

After quickly dialing a number on her phone, she cradled the cell between her ear and her shoulder, the phone ringing from the other line. While her hands were busy with packing her things up, she continued waiting for the caller to respond.

"Come on. Pick up, pick up, pick up." She chanted, hoping the phone was answered in time.

 _"Hello?"_ A deep and groggy voice asked.

She let out a sigh of relief, "Bobby, it's me. You got a minute?"

 _"Holy shit...Chris?! I can't believe it? How long has it been, girl? Last time I heard you were in Georgia working on that Jekyll and Hyde case. Nice work, by the way."_

"Yeah, thanks," Chris laughed, carrying her bags out to the parking lot, "How've you been Bobby?"

 _"Can't complain. Just holding up here; per usual. What's on your mind? There must be a reason why you called."_

"Well, let's just say that because of a certain someone, I'm heading back home a little earlier than expected. I need to ask you for a favor, if you don't mind." She came up to a sleek, black sports motorcycle. The engine, the leather seats, the wheels – the whole machine screamed Chris.

She stuffed the rest of her belongings into the small trunk attached to the back of her ride, her phone still nestled into the crook of her shoulder.

 _"Yeah, sure. Anything. It's also nice to know that you're coming back home after so long. When was the last time you saw those boys?"_

"Face to face? Nine years." Chris raised her eyebrows, not even believing herself how long it's been. She sat down on her motorcycle, her helmet resting on her lap.

 _"So, what do you need me to do?"_

"The next time you hear about Dean's whereabouts, tell me. But make sure you call and let me know in about...a month or so."

 _"A month?! Why?"_ Chris could hear Bobby splutter; his face was probably as red as a tomato. She knew Bobby wanted her to finally settle down, to put the past behind her and return home. But for some reason, that event continued to haunt her. And she couldn't find a way out of this – this feeling of guilt and sadness.

"I've got to take care of some things first. But I'm fine, Bobby. Really." Chris breathed out a laugh, shaking her head.

 _"Chris, you have to stop. You can't live like this. He wouldn't have wanted you to be this way. And you know it. What happened back there…"_

Chris cleared her throat, "I know Bobby. I know. But if you could just do this for me than that would be great."

 _"Consider it done. Only if you promise me one thing, though."_

"Yeah?"

 _"_ _Come back safe?"_

A small smile crept across her lips, "I always do."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

 **Most Wanted (Season 1)**

It was a little after four, and Dean and Sam had finally made it to Illinois from Minnesota. They were following a lead on a possible supernatural case in Chicago. The two brothers thought it might be worth checking out, when it was, after all, in John Winchester's notebook. But before they made it into the Windy City, they stopped at a local bar a few miles away.

It was popular for hunters to come by to this run-down bar. It was a known place for handing out jobs and sharing vital information about anything supernatural.

Sam and Dean walked into the bar, their presence not going unnoticed by the other costumers, who didn't look too friendly – or too clean. Some gave them steady nods of recognition, but others looked away and carried on with their drinks.

Dean looked at Sam, whose eyebrows were knitted with discomfort. They walked straight for the bar table, taking their seats on a pair of scratched up leather bar stools. A burly looking woman with a strange tattoo on her shoulder regarded them with cold eyes, but gave a curt smile at the two when they smiled nervously back.

"What can I get you boys?" She asked; her husky voice damaged from the apparent years of smoking.

"Uh, two beers," Dean said, giving a tight smile at the bartender. She pulled out two beer bottles from behind the counter, setting them in front of Dean and Sam wordlessly.

"God, you think everyone in here is a hunter?" Dean brought the glass to his lips, letting the drink trickle down his throat.

"I don't know, Dean. It's possible." Sam replied, looking around the room with anxious eyes. They all looked intimidating, each of them either covered in facial hair or covered in typical hunter wear: plaid, leather, or all of the above.

"Well, I'll be damned, if it isn't the Winchester boys." A voice said, laden in comical disbelief.

The two turned their heads to the voice, which belonged to a handsome gentleman sitting a couple of chairs away. Standing out from the rest of the hunters like a sore thumb, equipped with a radiant smile and slicked back, dusty-blonde hair, Dean and Sam regarded him as if they were staring into the sun for too long.

"How can we help you?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Sorry, forgot to introduce myself. The name's Conrad. Conrad Delaney." He gave a crooked smile, the type any girl would fall head over heels for. "I worked with your daddy on a case a while back. He mentioned you two might be hunting around, didn't expect to see you around these parts, though. It's nice to finally meet you both. I've heard you two were pretty good." He held out his hand, waiting for Sam and Dean to oblige him. Which they did with slight hesitance.

"John, huh? Didn't know he was the team type." Dean took a swig of his beer.

"You think? It was great working with him, he's a real go-getter. One of the best I've ever seen." Conrad praised, leaning on the counter.

"Yeah, I bet." Dean said in a bitter tone, bringing the tip of the bottle to his lips again.

"So where are you from, Conrad?" Sam kept up the small talk.

"California. Grew up in the game, my parents were both in the business." Conrad let out a laugh, looking down at the beer bottle in between his hands.

"You must have some experience then." Sam nodded his head, glancing back at Dean who was silently seething to himself. Sam could tell right away that Dean wasn't exactly happy at the mention of their dad at the moment. Who wouldn't be happy with their dad after being ditched the way Dean had been: not even a heads up, or a "hey, I'm going out for a while, be back whenever"? Just up and left.

"Tell us, Hollywood," Dean chimed in, "How did you know we're John's sons?" His tone wasn't so pleasant, and Sam grimaced inwardly at the rude tone in his brother's voice.

"He showed me a picture of you two, actually." Conrad laughed a little, finding his new nickname humorous. "And the fact that I've been tailing you guys for the past couple of days."

Sam and Dean were taken back.

"You've been _what_?" Dean's eyes squinted in fury.

"Wait, tailing us?" Sam asked in disbelief, standing up in defense. Dean followed suit, slowly reaching for his gun behind his back.

"Woah, woah, woah. Guys, listen. There's a legitimate reason. Just hear me out for a second, someone's looking for you – she'll be here any minute— "

Suddenly a loud, rumbling sound of an engine came from outside. Everyone at the bar turned their heads towards the entrance, as if expecting something to burst through the doorway at any moment. Dean and Sam looked to the door too, anticipating whoever or whatever was coming.

There was complete silence amongst the hunters, but only the sound of rustling gravel and clicking heels were heard from outside. The footsteps ceased at the door.

A young woman then walked in, and in that moment, it felt like everyone in the room held their breath in anticipation. Her hair was a wavy array of auburn that reached long below her back in slight, curly tendrils. Her figure was built and slender, but curvy in all the right places, hugged tightly by a black leather jacket.

She walked purposefully towards the bar, her lips turned down into a concentrated frown. She was heading straight towards Sam and Dean, ignoring everybody else in the joint as if they didn't exist. Murmured whispers traveled across the place, exchanging eager looks as they saw her advance closer and closer towards the confused Winchester's. Coming to a halt a good couple of feet away, she slowly took off her sunglasses, revealing a set of striking hazel eyes and long thick eyelashes.

"Sam and Dean Winchester. It's been a while." Her voice carried through the bar, everyone silent and intent on listening to her speak. "Thanks for the heads up, Conrad."

"Don't mention it." Conrad grinned.

"Wait, who are you?" Sam asked with suspicious eyes, looking towards his brother who was just as lost he was.

"You two: follow me." The woman ordered, beckoning them with her index finger.

"Wha–?" Sam and Dean both said in unison, but were cut off mid-sentence with a heavy glare from the beautiful woman.

"Now."

With a quick spin on her heel, she walked back towards the front entrance, the two reluctantly following her from behind.

As the three made it outside, the woman halted in suddenness, her back still turned to the boys. She let out a slow sigh, squaring her shoulders in a stiff manner.

Dean was the first to say something after a moment of silence, "Who are you exactly? Because, I mean, I would definitely remember a face like yours."

Sam looked at Dean, unamused by the remark.

"You're the one who's looking for us?" Sam asked, caution laden in his demeanor.

"Bingo." She finally turned around, smiling curtly at Sam.

"Who the hell are you? And why are you having us followed?" Dean erupted, stepping closer towards her.

"You never change." She hissed out a laugh, turning around and stepping closer towards him this time. The woman snaked her hand delicately into his jacket, grabbing a fistful of material and pulling him close to her face. She scowled in anger, her fist flew steady into his unsuspecting jaw.

Dean fell to the ground, loose gravel flying every which way from the impact of his body meeting hard, rocky surface. She cracked her neck, "That's for not listening to me after I specifically told you NOT to bring Sam into this! You stupid jackass!"

Dean spat blood from his mouth, touching his jaw with a wince, "What the fuck?!" He looked at her in utter disbelief, finally realizing who she was, "Chris?!"

"Oh my God! Chris is that seriously you?" Sam was beaming with joy, watching the young woman pull herself together.

She turned away from Dean to look at Sam, "You've grown so much! Look at you: all tall and handsome! I can't believe it!" She wrapped her arms around his neck while he brought his arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight hug.

"How long has it been? Ten years? I barely even recognized you! You look so different!" Sam grabbed her arms steady, looking her straight in the eye.

"It's a wonder what make up, long hair, and semi-feminine clothes can do to a girl, huh?" She smirked, tilting her head in a charming manner.

"And puberty…" Dean muttered under his breath, dusting his clothes off.

Chris turned around, finally acknowledging Dean since they first saw each other.

"So, what is this about me and Sam being followed?" Dean cracked his neck.

"I needed to find you guys somehow. Getting the word out was the best way for me to find you two: who have been very busy lately, I hear: Wendigo, lake monster, shape shifter..."

"You couldn't have called me?" He made a face, his eyebrows furrowed.

"No, because you see Dean. I didn't want to talk to you. Reason being: you hung up on me the last time we DID talk, remember? You didn't listen to me when I told you not to involve Sam because he had already made his choice to leave hunting behind." She shoved his shoulder hard, making him stagger back.

"Is that why you came here? To stop me from hunting?" Sam cut in.

"Yes. I don't want you to do this. Just because this dumbass made you, it doesn't mean hunting is a good way to live your life. He shouldn't have pulled you away from Stanford – it was a mistake. A huge mistake. You were supposed to be a lawyer, get married and settle down. _That_ life was meant for you. Not hunting monsters, sharing dirty motel rooms, and eating cheap diner food with your idiot brother for the rest of your life."

"I can't go back to Stanford, Chris…and I can't go back to my girlfriend either."

"What? Why?" Chris asked, concern evident on her beautiful face.

As Sam told Chris the story of how Jessica died in a fire, most likely caused by the same demon that killed their mom, Sam couldn't continue being a lawyer. He had to find the demon that killed her, and find John as well.

"I-I'm so sorry, Sam. I wish I could've been there for you...sooner, I mean." Chris shook her head, guilt overwhelming her. She really should've came home, so much has happened since she had left. Everything was falling apart.

"Well, you're here now. That's all that matters." Sam said with a grieving smile.

"That's right. And I will put aside my anger towards Dean for the time being to focus on helping you find John. As hard as it may be..." Chris looked towards Dean with a raised eyebrow. Dean frowned back.

"Thanks, Chris. We'll definitely need all the help we can get." Sam said gratefully, nudging his brother in the shoulder. "Right, Dean?"

"Yeah whatever."

Chris gave Dean a look, "Alright, I got to hit the road. I'll leave you guys to it, then. But I'll join you guys in a couple days. I have to finish a job in Pennsylvania first. Remember to call if you have any trouble," Chris poked Dean in the place where she punched him, making him wince in agitation, "and I promise I'll pick up this time."

Dean maneuvered away from her, making her sneer. She took a last look at them before she hopped on her motorcycle, pulling her helmet down over her head and speeding off down the highway.

"This'll be fun." Sam chuckled, looking back at Dean who was now massaging his jaw that still throbbed from Chris's blow.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

 **The Savior (Season 5)**

"Hello, Chris."

Chris spun around to face the voice, her eyes wide with fear.

The face moved to the light.

A shock of dark brown eyes, a masculine face. A twisted grin.

 _"Sam?"_

It was Sam! But his eyes were dark. Almost sinister. They were alive with evil.

 _What's happening?!_ Sam could hardly process who she was seeing. Or _what_ she was seeing.

The man's lips grew into an insidious grin, remarking Chris with a calculating stare. Chris stiffened, fearing the man who was standing in the room with her. _This wasn't Sam!_

"No. You're not Sam. You're—!" A tear rolled down her cheek, finally realizing that it may be Sam's body, but it wasn't him. He was gone. Defeat and despair coursed through her body, she caught the wall behind her to keep her standing.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Chris. I've heard a lot about you – not good things, unfortunately, but the rumors were correct when they mentioned you were…beautiful. Truly one of Father's…better creations."

Chris kept silent, not knowing what to say or what to do. She kept a firm hold on the wall behind her, almost as if she were bracing herself for Lucifer to kill her at any moment. Instead he found something amusing and let out a husky laugh, searching her figure curiously. Could he read her thoughts? Did he find her fear amusing? Chris shivered as the devil consumed her.

Lucifer continued his banter, "Nice try though, with the cage and all. You three almost surprised me with the Horsemen's rings…I had to admit; it was a good effort."

"W-What about—?" The words escaped my mouth, which came out raspy and small.

"Dean?" He sneered, "Lucky for you, I let him live for now. As for Sam, well, he's alive too...in here, that is." He tapped on his head, a devilish smirk escaping him.

This wasn't happening! This _had_ to be a nightmare!

"Are you here to kill me?" Chris eyed Sam's figure warily. She raised her chin and stood up straight, pretending to be strong in the face of death.

"Of course not," Lucifer said in astonishment, "Chris, I would never hurt you." Those endearing words made her heart skip a beat. A cold chill crawled up her spine, making her break into a sweat from his fear-inducing words. If he wasn't here to kill Chris…then what could he possibly want with her?

He stepped closer to Chris, she stiffened at the advance. "I couldn't. Don't you see? You're chosen." His eyes darkened ever so slightly, taking another step closer.

"Chosen? Chosen for what?" Chris's eyes darted back and forth between him and the nearest exit. She could make a run for it. But could she risk it?

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, _sweetheart_." He maneuvered his body to block her path to freedom, closing the distance between the two until they were only inches apart. Chris was breathing hard and fast. Her pulse racing a mile a minute.

Without warning, the devil brought his hand up to brush his fingers lightly against her neck, pushing a strand of hair away from her pale skin. Chris kept still – petrified, as if even the slightest jerk of her head would be her end. But she managed to gather enough courage to whisper her question again, "What do you want from me?"

"What do I want from you? My dear Chris, it's what you can _do_ for me. I've decided you're the one…I've chosen _you_ to give birth to my child."

Chris's eyes grew wild with shock. _What?_

"I've chosen you, Chris. You should feel honored – privileged even, that you'll be giving birth to a creature so powerful that it will be my successor for the future of this world. He will bring forth the apocalypse that we've all been anticipating. Chris," He was so close to her now, "I've chosen _you_."

She wanted to push him away, to scream, to cry, to do anything! But she couldn't bring herself to release the wall. Chris was too horrified of the monster in front of her…and the perverse things he wanted to do to her.

Lucifer brought his face closer still, his breath fanning across her tear-stained cheeks. He traced his fingers delicately along her face, but she jerked her head to the side and closed her eyes, not wanting to see the devil who wished to violate her. He slammed both his hands onto the wall on either side of her head, keeping her pinned to that spot. The loud bang made her jump, her heart almost leaping into her throat from the sudden action.

"Let me reiterate carefully, because I believe you didn't understand me the first time: you'll want for nothing. I'll give you anything you desire. I'll let all your loved ones live. Even Dean. All _you_ have to do is give yourself to me." Sam's fingers brushed back her hair, cooing lovingly into her ear as he continued, _"_ Surrender your body to me, Chris. I promise, it'll be quick and painless if you cooperate…unless you're into that sort of thing. Sadism is second-nature to me, after all."

With a shaky breath, she glared at Sam's cynical leer. She gathered the strength to finally speak, "You can go back to hell, you **fucking** bastard."

A cold sneer of amusement graced his handsome face. It was a look of pure evil. A deep laugh escaped his throat. "Hmm, I see. That's very disappointing."

"Sam! I know you're still in there! You have to—" Chris yelled, but was cut off mid-sentence with his lips crashing down onto hers. A muffled scream erupted from her throat, trying to break free from the rough but sensual kiss.

When he made no attempt at letting go, she resorted to grabbing at his shoulders, putting some distance in between them. But his rigid body wouldn't budge. Slipping one arm tightly around her waist, he pulled her flush against him. With his other hand bracing the back of her head, Lucifer kept her from wriggling from his grasp while he continued to ravage her.

Lucifer broke the heated contact to place kisses on her neck, nipping and licking at her creamy, white skin. Using his tongue to caress and soothe the pain away, his warm mouth created sensations within Chris that shook her to the core. It made her sick.

 _I've got to get out of here!_ Chris thought with a jerk of her head, evading more of Lucifer's hot kisses. But Lucifer was very strong. He held her to the wall, making her stay put as he continued to suck and lick, lapping at the wound he was creating with his teeth.

Chris distracted herself with all the mental strength she could muster. The movement of Lucifer's lips on her skin and the swirling action of his tongue was making her feel unwanted sensations all over her body.

"You taste so damn good…I'm going to take my time with you after all." Lucifer said with a groan as he tilted her chin upwards, making her roughly turn to him. His half-lidded, dark eyes were piercing down at her body with brazen and unadulterated lust.

He suddenly released Chris, turning away from her to take off his jacket and set it on the hotel dining chair. "Strip."

Her heart dropped into her stomach.

"Well?" Lucifer turned around impatiently, "Or would you prefer some help?"

She stared into his eyes – the eyes of the devil. Her soul left her.

Chris quivered in trepidation and anger, stuck to the wall and unable to move. She looked towards the exit again, then back at Lucifer with watery, cold eyes. She wordlessly unzipped her leather jacket, peeling off the material as she glared at him with disgust.

Lucifer smirked with triumph, finding a seat on the edge of the bed as he waited for her advance. "That's better." He extended his hand to her, and she crept carefully towards him where he was leaning back on the bed. Next, she reached down to the ends of her shirt, but in one swift motion, she grabbed a dagger from her back pocket and threw it – piercing Lucifer's chest.

Chris took this small chance and sprinted for the door. Ripping the door open, she bolted out and into the abandoned hallway. She ran as fast as she could to find the stairway, but a strong hand grabbed her wrist to halt her. She whirled her head around to face Lucifer, his expression far from amused. His eyes locking onto hers, he slowly pulled the dagger from his chest. There was no blood from the wound, and there was no pain in his eyes. Just darkness.

Lucifer dropped the knife to the floor. Chris brought her hand into a fist and sent it flying towards his cheek, but he grabbed her fist in one swift motion before it made contact. With his large hand wrapped around her fist, he spun her arm around and pinned it to her back. He then roughly slammed her against the cold wall, keeping a firm grip on her arm.

"I can't say that you had me there..." Lucifer chuckled, finding the situation humorous again.

 _"_ _Let go of me!"_ Chris thrashed for release, but he only gripped her arm tighter. She winced from the pain, feeling her skin already bruising.

"I don't understand it. You humans literally live for sex…you crave it more than anything. The sole purpose of your existence is to reproduce. Father even made this act pleasurable for you humans. You all can't live without it. It's a fact, Chris. You can't deny that."

He was now pressed up against her backside. His voice deepened, making her skin tremble. "Don't you wish to be pleasured? To experience that moment when you're on the brink of ecstasy…when I thrust inside…" He slid his free hand up her thigh, dangerously close to caressing the opening between her legs. She blushed at the horrific intimacy. Trying to avoid his touch, she jutted out her hips and tried to move backwards. He let out a deep groan of satisfaction as she accidentally grinded her ass harder against his now growing erection. Chris was mortified.

" _Hmm_ so you are enjoying this…" He squeezed her ass and pressed his body harder against hers, almost as if he were embracing her. She shivered violently at his ministrations, trying to ignore the aching nerves that seem to be enjoying this. He suddenly let out a sigh of disappointment.

"Yet here you are, as if I'm trying to kill you."

"Yes… ** _Kill me_**! Anything but **_this_**! Please!" Her eyes were welling up with tears.

He spun her around, making her back hit the wall with a loud thud. Lucifer roughly grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. He gave off a smirk – a wide and mirthless smirk. It was horrifying, yet it was beautiful. His handsome face contorted into a look of pure madness and lust. He bent down so that his face was only inches away from hers.

"You can beg me later."

Taking her by the waist, Lucifer effortlessly lifted Chris up into the air and over his shoulder. Chris tried squirming and recoiling from his ironclad grip, but he wouldn't budge.

Kicking the door back, he carried Chris into the room, carelessly throwing her onto the bed. As her back hit the firm mattress, he was already on top of her. She tried to maneuver out from under him, but his legs didn't budge on either side of her hips. She wanted to scream in frustration and despair, but she knew that, that would only excite him more.

Sitting on top of her to keep her from moving, he took the opportunity to take off his shirt, revealing a toned, muscular torso beneath. Chris swallowed nervously at the sight of him. She turned away to look at something else - anything else! This was all wrong!

"What? Is seeing Sam like this getting you hot?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow in curiosity, enjoying Chris's embarrassment.

Chris blushed furiously, refusing to reply to his perverted statement.

"Hmm? I guess I'll take that as a "yes"."

Giving her no time to fight back, he forcibly grabbed the bottom of her jaw to crush his warm mouth onto hers. He opened her mouth and bit her lower lip, forcing his tongue inside to taste her warm entrance. His left hand brushed her cheek and went down her neck, tilting it upwards. Lucifer let go to slide curious hands along her upper torso and up her shirt, massaging and squeezing her breasts with his one free hand. She let out a small scream, closing her eyes shut to the intimate touches her body was being forced to subject to.

Chris couldn't breathe with the close contact of his heated body and warm breath. She could only gasp to inhale some much-needed air when Lucifer took the opportunity and slid his ravaging tongue into her mouth again. She could feel his hard erection rub against the inside of her thigh, and her face paled with horror.

"You got me so hard, dearest. I don't think I can hold back anymore."

She let out a silent scream as she felt his hands rip the front of her shirt in half, exposing her lacy, black bra beneath.

Chris couldn't think straight. She felt violated – abused. She felt her heart sinking lower and lower.

What she resented the most about this situation was that her body was betraying her. She felt warmth like magma sweep into her body and down to her core. Sam was handsome – devilishly handsome. The only problem was that this wasn't Sam at all. It may be his body, but it was Lucifer beneath this familiar mask of her best friend.

"N-no," she said again, more tears streamed from her opaque hazel eyes.

The kisses went from slow to ravaging. His rough hands touching her face and neck, and was now threatening to expand its territory down her chest and further, further down.

"You can't say no. You're **chosen** for this." Lucifer said with maniacal eyes – which were alive and darkened with sin.

"Sam!" She called out, hoping and praying that he could resurface and stop Lucifer.

She felt his grip around her tighten as his eyes went feral – angry. She shuddered as his mouth pulled down into a tight frown.

"He's never coming back," he growled. "He let me in. I've taken over. End of story. Sam can't save you – no one can."

Chris's eyes widened.

A menacing laugh escaped his throat, finding humor in her attempt at bringing Sam back to life.

"You belong to me." He said in a more delicate voice,  
"This little body of yours belongs to _me_. Obey me and I'll spare Dean from a fiery torment that I had planned for him."

 _Dean!_

She went cold and silent.

"Good answer."

Chris closed her eyes, afraid of what this devil might do to her loved ones…and her body.

He wasted no time as he started to unbutton her jeans with steady, forceful fingers.

"S-Stop!" She screamed, closing her legs tightly against each other while trying to scoot backwards on the bed. The creature before her grinned.

"Stop when we've come this far?" he said with a smirk. He grabbed her leg, and in one forceful jerk, she was back underneath him. He kneeled at her bent knees and held onto them, prying them apart effortlessly. His smirk grew wider by the second. Lucifer grabbed the band of her jeans, roughly pulling them down her legs.

He caught both her wrists into one hand, effectively bringing them above her head and onto the pillows. Chris wriggled and fought beneath him, but his hand was like an unbreakable shackle and his body was like an iron cage. She was trapped.

"Play time's over." Lucifer said.

In one swift motion, he unbuttoned his pants—

"NO!" A yell came.

Chris opened her eyes as she looked at the man before her, his face contorting in rage and horror.

"NO, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" He yelled again, releasing her.

Chris sat up and looked at the devil with an expression of shock. _What's happening?_

"C-Chris, r-run," he said in a haggard voice.

Chris's eyes burst into tears, "Sam?!"

"Go! NOW!" Sam yelled, panting with exertion to keep the devil contained.

She could hear Sam wincing and trying to hold back Lucifer as she bounded off the bed and slipped back on her pants. Leaving her shirt on the floor in pieces, she made a break for the door. Not before glancing back at Sam in pain on the bed. He caught her eye, "CHRIS! GO!"

She grabbed her leather jacket and fled from the motel, not looking back as she reeved up her motorcycle and drove away into the night.


End file.
